handstories

heavy and light

    To see a rock in your dream symbolizes strength, permanence, stability... "as solid as a rock."  In the dream I did know that it was going to feel really good and strong to have that stone wrapped in my hair, resting on my head. 

    And it led to this.  What started out as a ship, now looks more like a small round coracle.  She's resting on the rock, enjoying the mix of moon glow and starlight, waiting to be filled and lifted.  (Moon by Jude, colorful stars, coracle and rock cloth by Deb.)

   (The last dream was of starting law school, lost and late, ending with teaching a classroom full of children how to make pie crusts.  I wonder where that might lead?!)

I dreamt of a stone.

    An odd dream.  Traveling in a land I've never heard of, visiting a holy site, being instructed on how to put on the traditional garb before going in.  Beautiful printed cloths for top and bottom, mismatched wonderful patterns, equally wild knitted ankle wraps (mine had moths fly out of them, but it didn't matter), and a stone.  A plain palm sized oval gray river stone, to be rolled up in my hair with a long cloth to wrap around it, to hold it in place.  I knew it was symbolic, for something...

    I stared at this off and on for a couple of hours, with no idea of what was next, worked on other things, and thought about that stone.

    Some story and stars on the way...

moving right along

    Yesterday I worked and worked at this spot, still not done.  There is a struggle with making smooth lines of thread, and filling in spots.  Practice would probably help.

    Back to work today.  Good to be with kids.  Good to be out.  Things felt newish.  

    Even driving the car after days of not felt strange.  We have stick shifts.  My dad said we had to learn on a stick shift so that we could drive anything.  I have never driven an automatic, and am afraid to.  They make me feel out of control.  So much for Dad's theory.

    We have always had stick shifts.  Even though we live in the hills of Seattle.  Hills that midwest friends call a roller coaster, raising their arms up with a "Whoa.....!!!" as we drive them up and down our neighborhood.  Blue complained much about this when learning to drive.  The driver's ed classes had automatics.  He informed us that they would let him take the test in one of their cars.  We informed him that was fine, but he couldn't drive one of our cars until he passed a test in a stick.  He still doesn't have his license, but he's great at public transportation.

    Well, that was an aimless ramble...

after

    How strange things seem after this lost week or so.  

    Something has been intensifying over the last months.  There have been a lot of useless bandaids, ignoring, and some denying, too.  Just a roller coaster of a situation.  There was another eruption, and suddenly I knew what to do, and made a plan for it, with hope.  

    The next day the virus came.  No work, no stitching, no painting class, no writing/reading/friends, nothing... just day after day of napping, some movies and a British garden show (Wendy's lovely recommendation).  It was a kind of a crash.   

    Everything stopped and cleared away, making room for rest, and two days ago that next step happened.  And it was exactly the right thing to have done, and now there is a plan and possibility.  

    The next day, yesterday, it snowed.  In Seattle.  In March.  Weird, short-lived and wonder-filled.

    The birthday cloth.  Or the un-birthday cloth, or maybe the Here I Am cloth?  Although, many of these pieces of cloth are from Jude, and there's her glue stitch going onto it today, slowly.  (Can I just say, once again, how much I love this stitch?  How it melts- both in blending the cloths together, and everything else away...)

    I'm thinking that, once the fog of the last week or so passes, or maybe because of the blur, that I might find some new parts of myself in this.

upright, at last

    Well, it was day nine of the ever evolving virus that went from cold to crud to cough.  It's been a bunny-hop kind of a healing process.  Each time it seemed it was on it's way out, another phase came knocking.  

    There was an attempt to go to work on Tuesday, but after two hours I was sent home, perhaps it was because I was falling asleep on the back counter, or maybe it was the wandering the halls in the wrong direction looking for Room 13?  

    The birthday cake was put into the freezer, awaiting the birthday that apparently isn't meant to be.  It's been replaced by gallons of herbal tea and quarts of orange juice.  

    Yesterday I was just sick of being sick.  K. said he knew I was starting to feel better because some wit was creeping into my whining.

    Not one to be counting chickens before they're hatched... but this afternoon there was knitting, the first needle of any kind that I've touched for days.

    I just don't bounce like I used to, but Twinkle sure enjoyed all of the cat naps for two.

mid festivities

    Thank you one and all for the wonderful birthday wishes!  They added much cheer to my day.

    It was just the quiet day that was wished for.  And yes, Marti, there was a start on a new cloth for myself.  So far it holds five of Jude's moons and a lot of blue.  Weirdly, by evening, the head-cold I've been nursing turned to fever, and I was in bed by 8:00 without cake or our traditional celebrations.  Oh well, a postponed party is something to look forward to... 

    The fever is gone, there's the whole day to doze on the couch, and to add stitches to the new cloth.  I'm really looking forward to sprinkling pink thread beads in this spot.  Maybe there will be more cake for lunch?  (This cake may be gone before it ever has a candle put in it!)

fifty-five

Q: What did the paper clip yell when the stapler walked into her birthday party?  (answer below)

    I started this piece on my fiftieth birthday.  Found it yesterday, I don't think it's been worked on it since.  

    Blue just called from Alabama, where he is spring-breaking on the Gulf Coast with friends.  This is the first time he's not been here for my birthday.  I suppose this is how it goes.  

    It will be a quiet day, hopefully.  

    I broke into the cake last night, but that's another story.  

    Maybe I'll add more to this today?  

    Or maybe just look at it?

    A:  "Supplies!!!"

"Home...any place of residence or refuge."

 

    House, boat, moon...some of the shapes that home takes for me.  

    What is home for you?

    These are in the shop, if you would like one of my homes to come to your home...

moon moment

    A scrappy blue moon with a shimmery edge.  I was really happy to find the middle background strip for the melting place between the other two.  Woke up at 4 am, convinced that my time should be spent finishing some old things, bigger things.  

    The moment seems to have passed.

filling in a gap

    I seem to have fallen by the internet wayside for the most part, in much of the rest of my life, too.  Nothing interesting to say.  Overdone and pollen filled brain.  The urge and energy to stitch has come back this week, hopefully the rest will soon follow.  

    In the meantime...  

    Here's a silly story, one I've used in schools for decades.  A true tale from my childhood, possibly with a little extra drama thrown in. It's good for corralling quiet, or for filling in the gaps as needed... 

The Disneyland Story  

    My family didn't have a lot of money, so for vacations we would go camping.  But one year, my parents said we were going to Disneyland!  We were so excited!  My mom told us that it was going to be very expensive, but that they were going to buy each of us an all day pass.  The pass would have a string on it, and it was up to us to tie it to our belt loop or button holes, and to take care of it all day long.  She told us, "If you lose it, that's it.  We're not going to buy you another one.  You'll have to sit on a bench and watch us, and not have any more fun."  

    "We'll be careful, Mom!" we promised.

    We planned and packed up the camper.  (Yes, we were still going to be camping, but this time it would be next to a pool and Disneyland, instead of the usual river and outhouse! )  As we got ready, Mom kept asking if we had clothes with places to tie the ticket string, "Because you know, we won't buy you another one, you'll just be on a bench...."

    "Yes, Mom!"

    The story goes along, alternating between excitement for the trip and growing exasperation at my mom's constant ticket warnings.  The children usually start yelling "Yes, Mom!" along with me...

    Standing in line to buy the tickets, and Mom started in... "Yes, Mom!"

    Riding the Monorail into the park, and Mom checking where we tied them with a warning...  "Yes, Mom!"

    My brother and I heading off on our own to the big rides, and Mom calling out, "Remember...."  "YES, Mom!"

    We had a wonderful time, riding Space Mountain, the Matterhorn and more.  We met up with the rest of the family for lunch, and Mom said, "Did you have fun?  Do you still have your tickets?"

    "YES, MOM!"

    After lunch we went to the Wild Mr. Toad ride.  Each of us showed the attendant our ticket, and we all rode it together.  Next we headed for the Snow White ride, again, we stood in line, each of us showing our ticket...

    BUT . . . Someone in my family had lost their ticket!

    (At this point the kids gasp, and begin shouting out who they think it was...)

        "YOU!"  It wasn't me.  "Your brother!"  It wasn't my brother.  "Your sisters?"  And as I shake my head "no" it begins to dawn on them, that the answer to the mystery is a perfect childhood moment...

    "It was My Mom!"  (Screams of glee!)  

    And we said to her, "We are not buying you another one, you will have to sit on a bench and have no more fun!"  And do you know what she said?  Absolutely nothing.  She turned bright red and didn't say a word.  We traced our steps back to the Mr. Toad ride, and lucky for her, we found her ticket on the ground next to the attendant.  She tied it on and never said another word about tickets to us again!

The End